


Time

by boomshine87



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Multi, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomshine87/pseuds/boomshine87
Summary: SEQUEL TO 'TOGETHER'. Time; the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole. Harald and Halfdan return, along with Yasmin.I'd advise to read TOGETHER before this.
Relationships: Halfdan the Black/Original Female Character(s), Harald Finehair/Halfdan the Black/Original Female Character(s), Harald Finehair/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Time - Chapter One

“Are you excited to see your Uncle, my son?” Harald lifted Erick high above his head and the boy laughed in delight.

“Yes, father,” The boy giggled, now settled on the Kings hip. Yasmin reached out a hand and brushed his dirty blonde hair out his eyes. She would need to cut it again when he was asleep - he wanted his hair long like his father’s but it was growing unruly.

As the ships neared Yasmin’s excitement grew. Halfdan had been away for almost four summers in the Medittereanean. The time had passed fairly quickly, mainly thanks to her son taking up all her free time. He had grown quickly, too quickly, as it seemed like only last week he was still a baby and not yet able to walk.She was excited for the little boy to meet his Uncle.

The blonde viking was easy to spot; On the first boat he stood at the front, his hair lightened by his time in the sun. It had grown, and now he’d styled it into a mohawk braid that ran down the middle of his head, sides totally shaven to reveal his ink.

As the wooden boat came to dock Harald passed his heir to his wife to embrace his brother. Their reunion was much like Yasmin remembered their parting to be - low voices and foreheads pressed to each other.

“I cannot tell you how good it is to see you, brother,” Harald pressed his forehead against his brothers.

“And you. You have been busy.” Halfdan commented, glancing around and noticing how the dock of Vestfold had doubled in size. Halfdan told Harald of his journey there and remarking how cold it was. He was wrapped in fur, his colourful clothes peeking from beneath the bear furs, but it was almost summer in Vestfold.

Halfdan’s eyes caught Yasmin’s, then flicked to the small boy by her feet. She smiled warmly at him as he wrapped his arms around her. They stood in the same spot as years before where’d she cried uncontrollably into his tunic and then for a further three days when he’d left. She felt the tears return to her eyes.

“You look as beautiful as ever.” he breathed in her ear.

“It is so good to have you back, where you belong.” 

“And who might you be?” Halfdan softened his tone, bending one knee to be equal height to the dirty blonde haired boy trying to hide in Yasmin’s dress. His eyes were dark green and almond like hers, and they flicked up to Harald before looking back to the stranger in front of him.

“Erick,” he spoke softly.

“Ah, that is most fortunate then, as I have a present right here, especially for Erick Haraldsson.” Halfdan bought out a small item wrapped in hessian from his furs.

“For me?” the boy asked, forgetting the safety of Yasmin and now standing in front of Halfdan palms opened. Halfdan unwrapped the hessian revealing a wooden carved camel painted in bright colours.

“It is a camel.” Halfdan explained, placing it in the boys tiny hands.

“Car-mel?” The boy tried out the foregin word on his tongue.

“It’s like a horse that only lives in the desert and has two humps, here, see?”

Yasmin looked on fondly as Erick listened intently at Halfdan’s explanation of the desert. He took everything in like a sponge, and was intelligent for his young age. He grasped new concepts very quickly and never forgot anything he saw or heard. 

Erick laughed as Halfdan stood, picking his nephew up with him, following Harald to the Hall. Yasmin trailed behind looking at the three most important men in her life. Her heart soared and her stomach fluttered with excitement. 

They could be a family again now.


	2. The Golden Flower

“It is so good to have you back, brother, here in the Great Hall by my side,” Harald commented.

“And it is good to be back here and drinking your mead!” Halfdan laughed. Yasmin shook her head slightly. Harald and Halfdan would drink far too much tonight. Any conversation she held with either of them they would forget by the morning. She felt the familiar touch of Harald’s warm hand on her thigh, rubbing it gently, then his facial hair tickled her neck as he spoke in her ear.

Yasmin giggled, bringing Halfdan’s attention from the chicken leg in his hand. He saw Harald’s hand inching towards Yasmin’s core, her hand caressing his cheek as they stared lovingly into each other’s eyes. Nothing had changed there then. He wondered why they hadn’t had another child since he’d been gone. 

“We raid in three weeks brother. South-West of here. You still have it in you, don’t you?” Harald asked mischievously. Halfdan hadn’t raided as much in the Med as he did back home.

“Of course,” Halfdan retorted. He talked to Hrald about his summer raids. He had plans, and ideas, stemming from his time abroad. When he raided in the Med they battled until the other side claimed defeat. They took the strong men in their army, those that weren’t willing were killed. They traded the young and strong women as slaves for gold, and turned the lands they conquered into their own territories creating outposts, instead of just raiding for gold and taking it back home. “I have plans for us, Harald.”

Yasmin looked up from her wine. There was the intelligent Halfdan she knew was hiding beneath his nonchalant exterior. She smiled, as did Harald.

Four weeks later, Harald and Halfdan returned from a raid, ships laden with young women and boys of a teenage age bound by rope. They stepped off the boat and were rounded up to the village. Yasmin watched from afar, not happy about the amount of strangers invading her home.

“Who is going to feed them?” she asked her husband, turning an empty cup in her hand.

“Don’t worry, my love, we seized their grain store. They will only be here for a week but then we take them to Norway to sell.” Harald told her, taking the cup and filling it up for her.

“Norway? Nobody will be there, they are all raiding, not trading at this time of year!”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Halfdan spoke from the chair by the fire - he was always by a fire - “We will be the only ones there with slaves - we can charge higher prices. All the Kings and Jarls of Norway that are too fat, lazy or old to fight will be there.”

Yasmin huffed. He had a point but Norway was far and she didn’t want to be on her own in raiding season. Harald had a great army but she could never be too mindful especially with little Erick around here now. She sighed. “I suppose so.”

Yasmin took her leave, venturing to the market place where the slaves were kept in wooden prison cells. If they were kept in the open, they could be kept a close eye on. The prisoners amassed in one area of the cell much to Yasmin’s curiosity. She walked closer. One woman sat in the far corner, legs crossed and eyes closed. All the others were gathered in the opposite corner - avoiding the lone woman like she had a plague.

“Who is that?” Yasmin asked a teenage boy close to her.

“Please, I’m so hungry.” he begged.

Yasmin rolled her eyes but grabbed a nearby piece of fruit and passed it to him, his companions nearby trying to grab the morsel of much desired food.

“Why are you avoiding her? Is she sick?” Yasmin scrunched up her nose.

“Not sick, she is a witch. Evil witch. Uses dark forces of the Gods to bend the will of those around her.”

Yasmin’s curiosity had piqued. The woman looked very plain and not at all like a witch. She looked demure and like she couldn’t hurt anyone. Her hair was a little lighter than Yasmins, and dressed in a plain grey dress that was a little dirty, with a black overcoat. Yasmin walked to the other side of the cage.

“You there. Girl.” She called. Paatrick, who often accompanied her to the market, stepped forward but she brushed him away. The slaves were chained and locked up. She couldn’t be harmed.

“I’m talking to you.” Yasmin grew irritable.

“My name is Orla,” The woman spoke with a slight accent of something she couldn’t quite place.

“Orla, come here.” Yasmin spoke with her authoritative voice honed by years of court duties as a queen.

The woman stood, eyes still closed, and Yasmin wondered if she was blind. Taking small steps towards Yasmin she felt her way mainly with her hands on the bars that separated the two women.

“You smell like strawberries,” Orla spoke and opened her eyes. 

Yasmin gasped. Orla’s right eye was blue but her left was brown. She’d never seen or heard of such a thing before.

“I long for strawberries.” Orla continued. “With sugar, and cream,” the woman licked her lips. She stood maybe three to four inches shorter than the Queen and of the same build.

“I prefer them with honey.” Yasmin confessed. “Who made your coat?” Sitting down, the beautiful golden thread that was woven into a gorgeous flower on the black overcoat, had been hidden.

“I did!” Orla beamed, stepping back to show the green eyed beautiful lady her handiwork. “See?” Orla turned and showed her back, where a larger flower also decorated with green purple and red thread could also be seen.

“That’s beautiful. I assume you make dresses also? Tunics?”

“Yes, I do leather work as well. For a price, of course.”

“And what price is that?” Yasmin smirked.

“Get me out this shit pit.”

Paatrick followed the Queen closely, the prisoned slave walking beside her. The two women were chatting and Paatrick didn’t like it.

“I really must thank you for letting me out of that awful cage. Those idiots barely have a brain between them. I’m sure each time one of them farts they lose a word from their vocabulary. The art of conversation is absolutely lost on all of them.”

Yasmin chuckled at the woman’s words. “They obviously don’t think too highly of you either, Orla. I don’t think they could have gotten much further away from you if they tried.”

“They fear what they don’t know.”

“And what is it about you they don’t know?”

“Intelligence.”

Yasmin stopped and stared at the woman with the two different colored eyes. Orla seemed educated, worth more than a slave. She obviously possessed great skill as a seamstress,and with a different accent than that of the region, it seemed she may have travelled far. But why? And who with? Yasmin would place her as a lady, her family must have some wealth for her education.

“Please, accompany me round the market, and then join me in the Great Hall for an afternoon meal.”

“Food?” Orla's eyes went wide.

By the time they reached the Hall Orla was disorientated. Yasmin led her down alleyways and back streets to confuse Orla. Yasmin was as smart as she was pretty - no wonder she was Queen. She had purposely led the slave in a disorderly fashion and passed each section of the market once so that Orla could not form a map in her mind. She didn’t know where the prisoners were kept and couldn’t help them escape even if she wanted to.

Orla ate what Yasmin did to avoid being poisoned. Yasmin soon caught on and paused in her eating to ask Orla more questions. Orla, absolutely starving, gave in to her growling stomach and ate. She washed it down with gulps of ale and as she caught Yasmin’s green eyes watching her, it was then Orla realised her mistake. Yasmin had eaten but not drank anything. The ale cup was laced with something which sent Orla's Head spinning before falling off the chair.

Harald and Halfdan appeared seconds later, eyeing the stranger on the floor.

“Who is this?” Harald demanded, as Halfdan nudged the figure on the floor with his dirty boot.

“Who indeed?” Yasmin mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Orla? I know it's early days but I'm curious to hear what you think.


End file.
